


Come Home

by QuickLikeLight



Series: Tumblr Fics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Public Sex, hints of bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9780590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/pseuds/QuickLikeLight
Summary: “You know, it’s two in the morning,” Stiles says conversationally. “Did you know it was two in the morning? It’s two in the morning.”“I got it, Stiles,” Scott groans, starting to pack up his notes. If Stiles is here, there’s no way he’s getting any more studying done.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Dea sending me [this](http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=292) A Softer World prompt.

Scott’s been studying for this test for what feels like days, but has definitely been hours. Test questions spin around in his head as he goes over the study guide yet again, starting from the beginning. The fifth floor of the library’s his favorite; all the comfy chairs are on the third floor, the archives are on the fourth, and the sixth floor is dedicated to study carrels, so the fifth floor’s always empty. The chairs are stiff and the table in the corner wiggles when he moves wrong, but Scott’s never had to fight anyone for his spot. Not that he’d really fight anyone anyway, but he is rather attached.

His phone buzzes for the fourth time this evening, the same text he’s already received three times over. _Come home_ , it reads, simple as that. Scott checks the time. It’s only 1:45, and the test isn’t until 11. He can still get an hour of studying done before he has to go home to sleep, so he loses himself in the numbers and figures, the vocabulary and the formulas. He’s so caught up in it he doesn’t notice that someone’s behind him until two large hands clasp over his shoulders, squeezing tight over his collarbones.

“Evening Scotty,” Stiles says, voice suspiciously warm. Scott looks up at him by tilting his head back, so the top of it touches Stiles’ stomach.

“Um. Hi.”

Stiles squeezes his shoulders again, and Scott lets go of the tension he didn’t realize he was holding in them. Stiles does that for him a lot these days - is his safe space to go to when school gets to be too much, or work is emotionally taxing, or he’s just lost in a sea of trauma he’ll never fully escape.

“You know, it’s two in the morning,” Stiles says conversationally. “Did you know it was two in the morning? It’s two in the morning.”

“I got it, Stiles,” Scott groans, starting to pack up his notes. If Stiles is here, there’s no way he’s getting any more studying done.

“Oh hold on a second,” Stiles says, reaching over him to still Scott’s hand on his book. Stiles’ body stretched over his shoulder is hot and a little heavy, and he smells like cologne and home. His fingers twine with Scott’s momentarily, brush between them over the sensitive skin there and up the back of Scott’s hand, giving him chills. “I didn’t say you had to go! I was just here to remind you of the time.”

“It’s fine, I know, I stayed out too late,” Scott says, but Stiles has a point to make, and he never makes a point quickly. Stiles scoots Scott’s seat back, apparently impervious to the soft screeching noise it makes on the very thin carpet. He drapes himself around Scott from behind, kissing behind his ear for just a second in a move that is obviously calculated to disorient and disarm. The thing is, just because Scott knows it’s calculated doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.

“Mmph,” Scott whimpers, leaning back against the hard back of the chair, wishing he was at home with Stiles in their big bed. The feeling doesn’t last long - within seconds Stiles has pulled away, leaving him cold and wanting. Scott whimpers again, for a much different reason.

“Sit still,” Stiles says softly, but it’s as much a demand as if he had shouted it. Scott can’t help but comply, his whole body attuned to Stiles’ wishes. Stiles kneels down in front of him, scooting under the high wooden table, and starts unbuttoning Scott’s jeans.

“Hey - we can’t -” Scott starts, but Stiles places a finger over his lips.

“We’re in a library Scotty. Shhhh.”

“Really, Stiles? Here?” Scott’s disgusted by how turned on he is by Stiles slowly peeling his zipper down. He should be better than this. He should tell Stiles no, make him take Scott home where they can have sex in their big bed like normal people. He definitely shouldn’t thread his fingers through Stiles’ hair and scratch his scalp encouragingly.

It takes Stiles no time at all to free Scott’s cock from his boxer briefs. He strokes Scott’s cock with long strokes, his broad hand covering every inch of skin. Scott struggles to breathe steadily in the best way, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one’s coming.

“It’s two in the morning,” Stiles reminds him. “No one’s coming up here. Except you, maybe.”

Scott groans. “That was awful,” he tries to say, but what comes out is, “Please.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles says, eyes flashing. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you. Then next time I text you to come home, you’ll remember this.”

“I’ll come home next time, I promise,” Scott says, and his mouth drops open as Stiles licks a long line up his cock. He has to bite down on his hand to keep from moaning as Stiles takes him into his mouth, hot and wet. It’s exciting, being here in the open, the risk of discovery. He’s not an exhibitionist or anything, but something about the potential to be seen makes Scott’s heart race, makes his breath come fast. Stiles sucks him sweet and hard, head bobbing deliciously. It doesn’t take long at all for Scott to tug at his hair, willing him to look up.

“Gonna come,” he breathes, staring down at Stiles’ pinked-up face, his reddened lips stretched wide around Scott. “Stiles, please - can - can I?”

The only answer he gets is Stiles sucking harder, working his hand over the bit of skin that doesn’t fit in his mouth, and it’s so good - it’s so good he can’t hold out any longer. Scott moans softly as he comes, flooding Stiles’ mouth. Stiles pulls off with a pop of his lips that makes Scott see stars for a moment, and then he’s being kissed, the taste of himself still heavy on Stiles’ tongue. He kisses back, feeling weak and tired and euphoric all at once.

“You next?” he asks when Stiles pulls away.

“Yep,” Stiles says, gathering up Scott’s books and shoving them in his bag. “But first, it’s time to go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback is valuable to all fic writers, and I'm no exception. If you enjoyed this story, please let me know.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://quicklikelight.tumblr.com).


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